


Padre needs a break

by taylor_tut



Category: MASH (TV)
Genre: Drabble, Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-16
Updated: 2019-02-16
Packaged: 2019-10-29 13:00:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 413
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17808422
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/taylor_tut/pseuds/taylor_tut
Summary: A short little drabble from my tumblr for the following prompt: "Father Mulcahey overworked and underappreciated and working himself into an illness so Hawkeye can take care of him."





	Padre needs a break

Hawkeye knocked lightly on the doorframe, startling Father Mulcahy from his work and making him cringe when that aggravated his headache.

"Busted," Hawkeye said. He and BJ both had ordered him to go to bed hours ago when he'd showed up to that morning's service with a voice so raw that no one could hear him and looking pale and shaky. He'd promised that he'd go to sleep just as soon as he finished a little bit more of the budget for the donations he'd collected for the orphans that week, even though the doctors had told him that could wait, but now he was working on the next morning's sermon instead. 

"You've caught me," he surrendered, his voice even more shot than it had been that morning. The tea he was sipping was doing nothing to help that.

"Ready to turn yourself in? We've got a nice cot for you back at your tent; I think you'll like it." Father Mulcahy chuckled, which turned into a few wheezy coughs. 

"I'll get to bed soon," he reassured, but Hawkeye didn't look convinced. 

"Sorry," Hawkeye said without sounding sorry at all, "doctor's orders." He gently took the papers from him and tucked them under his arm. 

"You can have these back when that fever breaks," he commanded, reaching out to press a hand to Padre's forehead to confirm the heat there with a frown.

"As much as I appreciate your concern, I'm fine," he tried to argue. "I have work to do before tomorrow's sermon." Hawkeye rolled his eyes. 

"Well, you're in luck, because you're not giving one," he said. "You're going to be on bedrest for 24 hours after the fever breaks." 

"I can't—"

"None of us can," Hawkeye cut him off. "But sometimes we have to take breaks, Padre." He sighed, knowing that the doctor had a point. After all, if the roles were reversed—and it wouldn't be the first time that they were—he'd be making the same argument that Hawkeye was, presently. With a resigned sigh, he allowed Hawkeye to lead him to his bed. 

"Take these," Hawkeye said, apparently having come prepared with a pocketful of fever reducers, "and I'll be back to check on you in a little bit. Holler if you need anything." As much as he hated to admit it, lying down felt a lot better than sitting up. He finally let himself drift off to sleep for the first time in far too long. 

 


End file.
